


Dire Fire, Dear Fairy

by HogwartsToAlexandria



Category: Fate: The Winx Saga - Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Discipline, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag, F/F, Non-Sexual Age Play, Praise Kink, S1E6: A Fanatic Heart, Spanking, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:07:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29000445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria
Summary: An innocent question at the end of a very long day leads to more than either of them could have suspected, but, Farah thinks, it makes sense in the end.
Relationships: Bloom/Farah Dowling
Comments: 11
Kudos: 70
Collections: Bulletproof 20/21





	Dire Fire, Dear Fairy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheseusInTheMaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/gifts).



> First line is taken from the episode but otherwise there's very little in the way of spoilers here, I'm completely ignoring the ending of the season and probably will forever haha. 
> 
> Hope this is satisfying dear recip, your Femdom Letter was very inspiring ❤

_ "Can we… hug?"  _

Farah considers, as emotion washes over her, the way Bloom's face is pinched and uncertain. She reviews their past interactions and her heart tears at the seams when she realizes it's her fault the girl is even asking. She likes that she does, but she shouldn't have to. Bloom's eyes are a deep blue that twinkles and reflects the bright orange they turn to when her magic fills her like complementary colors. She's a beautiful girl, a true fire fairy in all that she is impetuous, dares devils left and right and has given Farah herself a fair run for her money even though she was the one to find her and bring her to Alfea. Bloom is her own wind. She's fierce, and yet she trembles, small and full of doubt as she waits for Farah's answer. 

Hugs are one thing, but the more Farah watches her, the more she sees the faintness of Bloom's wrists, and the paleness of her neck, the thinness at her waist, all soft, all a beautiful contrast to the usual sharpness of her gaze and that of her cheekbones… the more Farah watches her the more she can identify, finally, what the taste of longing she's had inside her since the beginning of the school year truly comprised. 

She reaches for Bloom with one hand, forgetting all about the tea cups she poured the minute Bloom places her hand in hers. She tugs her forward at the same time as she flicks her other hand and a piece of her wall recedes, revealing her private suite. Bloom doesn't say a word as they move into Farah's living spaces, nor does she when they stop at her sofa, the wall closing behind them. Then only does Farah stop and open her arms for her, and Bloom rushes to huddle herself in Farah's embrace. 

They stay just likes this for a long while, Farah's hands going up and down the line of Bloom's spine, feeling the bumps of it and relishing the small sighs that escape the girl's lips every now and then. 

"You did beautifully the last few days, Bloom. The magical powers you showed were breathtaking." Farah starts, dancing the line between her role as headmistress and what she's come to understand they both need her to be right now — a figure of both authority and comfort, a way for Bloom to let her desperate quest for her parents rest, a stop where she can grieve the idea quietly. "But," 

Bloom's head whips at that, searching Farah's face for the rest of her sentence. Farah smiles at her, grazing her cheek with the pad of her thumb. 

"But you've been a very bad girl too, haven't you, dear?" 

Bloom doesn't look scared, she looks relieved, maybe even grateful, and that's when Farah knows, without a doubt, that she didn't misinterpret this. 

"Haven't you, baby?" She repeats, closing her hand at the back of Bloom's neck, squeezing lightly. 

"Yes, Miss Dowling." Bloom bites her lip, her eyes once again looking too big for her face, the fire of her rebellion subdued as ger mistakes and recklessness dawn on her. 

"And what do we do with bad little girls?" Farah smiles at her, letting both her hands run down Bloom's back and sides, until she can grab at Bloom's backside. It's transgressive, and it's not what Farah thought she would be doing at this time of this day, but by Alfea's greatests, it is much better than whatever she'd foolishly believed. 

Bloom reacts beautifully — a soft whimper leaves her throat, and her back arches to bring her closer to Farah, her arms unfold from her own chest so she can put her hands flat on Farah's, just above her breasts. It's a cascade of emotions Farah wasn't totally ready for, and yet she keeps a straight face, waiting for Bloom to respond. It takes a moment but then Bloom bites her lip and nods, "Punishment." She whispers, "Bad little girls deserve punishment."

"That's right." Farah smiles at her. If she had a mirror close by, she's sure she would see the perfect reflection of how she feels for once, far removed from her decades-long habit of masking it all. 

Farah sits on the sofa behind them, and then she pats her lap. "Trousers down and over my knee, Bloom." 

Bloom's cheeks flush at the words, a dark pink that only serves to accentuate the fire of her red hair, her pointy nose all the sweeter for it. Farah's chest expands around a sigh of satisfaction, she waits and watches. Bloom trembles all over when she undoes the button of her jeans, and then more still, when she pushes them down beneath the swell of her buttocks. Her panties are a gentle pink that suits the innocence she's shown Farah so far, and is only confirmed when she stumbles through laying over Farah's thighs, crawling on her hands and knees until her midsection rests on the sofa and her bottom is presented, perked and beautiful, right where she's been asked to offer it. 

"Good girl." Farah praises, letting her finger trace a line from the back of Bloom's thigh to the middle of a cheek, the soft thickness of the cotton panties making her breathe just a little faster. "Now count for Mummy, we stop at 10." 


End file.
